One thing that's interesting about this as a detective novel is that it's much more a 'how dunnit' than a 'who dunnit'. It is obvious who's behind the killings both to Morse and us from fairly early on. But getting any further is stymied by solid alibis and tortuous possibilities - all excellently handled.
Dexter's writing style can take a little while to get back into. He was always a wordy writer, and can intrude in the author's voice rather more than is common in a modern novel. One thing that particularly struck me was the time and effort he put into the quotes that start each chapter. These are not just random bits of filler - they contribute to the storyline, and are often fascinating in their own right.
There are arguably elements of sexism in the book that feel a little uncomfortable now. It's not so much the sexism of many TV detective shows, where the victim is far too often female, but rather the way every female character seems to fancy Morse, who seems to have few redeeming features in reality - and this even includes someone less then half his age falling in love with him. Perhaps even worse, Dexter can come across as distinctly condescending to his less educated characters.
However, most period murder mysteries have some issues. I love Margery Allingham, but her books certainly have an undeserved respect for, say old buffer Chief Constables with no brains. So I'm inclined to say that Dexter was of his period, and with that proviso, we can still say that this is a satisfying and intriguing mystery.
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